


Let Me Down Slow

by forgetthehorrorstory



Category: Scream (TV)
Genre: Brodrey, F/F, Fluff, Slow Burn, Some trauma stuff, everyone is friends and everyone lives, kieran doesn't exist, pretend season 2 never happened
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-17
Updated: 2017-08-30
Packaged: 2018-08-09 09:32:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7796617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/forgetthehorrorstory/pseuds/forgetthehorrorstory
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Piper's death, things finally settle down in Lakewood. Audrey gets Brooke a job at the movie theater and shows her around on her first day. Flirting and blushing ensue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Thanks again for showing me around on my first day, Audrey,” Brooke said, buttoning the theater’s striped uniform vest over her black blouse. Even in the vest, Brooke looked more put-together than Audrey imagined anyone should; her shirt, in contrast to Audrey’s plain tee, had billowy sleeves that ended in fitted satin cuffs and a high collar that laced in front. Even so, Audrey was slightly gratified to see that the combination didn’t quite work; the loose shirt bunched and flared out slightly under the bottom of the cropped polyester. Glancing at herself in the full-length mirror on the break room door, Brooke tugged at the hem with dissatisfaction.

“No problem,” Audrey said, pulling the door open to prevent Brooke from fussing with her shirt for too long. “Although you may need to invest in some basic black layers soon. You’re gonna sweat your ass off in that.” Brooke rolled her eyes, clearly not placing too much stock in Audrey’s fashion advice. Audrey glanced nervously at the break room clock; she’d left Nick on the register, and she wasn’t too confident in his ability to hold down the fort when the loud and pushy families started arriving for the evening showing of the newest animated film.

“Alright, suit yourself. Let’s get you out there before the next showing.”

Usually, it was her manager’s job to show the trainees around the theater, but she’d handed off the job to Audrey as soon as their boss mentioned who their newest employee was. “I’m not about to order that creepy mayor’s kid around,” she’d said, and Audrey had to admit that was probably smart. Since everyone knew Audrey and Brooke were both members of the Lakewood Six, people often defaulted to Audrey when they were too scared to deal with Brooke themselves.

Audrey kept holding the door and gestured to Brooke to pass through. “Ooh, the royal treatment on my first day,” Brooke chuckled, and Audrey rolled her eyes, following her out. They passed into the narrow hallway that ran behind the screening rooms and toward the lobby. While the public areas of the building were lit with old-timey sconces that bounced off the antique wood and illuminated the kitschy decorative movie posters, this hall was all concrete, rusty piping and fluorescent lighting.

“Welcome to Zenith Theater, Lakewood’s premier destination for rom coms and dancing penguins,” Audrey murmured as they walked toward the double doors that led into the lobby. Brooke snorted, glancing around the hall with one eyebrow raised. “I always thought this place was actually old, but I guess it’s all just movie magic, huh?”

“Movie magic and twenty years of teenage employees forgetting to dust.”

They entered the lobby and were immediately inundated with commotion. As Audrey had predicted, the first showing of the latest talking-animals-and-musical-numbers film had attracted hordes of small children and their sleep-deprived keepers. Nick, bless his heart, was stumbling through several transactions at once, bouncing from the ticketing register to the concession stand.

“Sorry, dude! We’re here now,” Audrey called to him, hopping the rope that blocked off the register area and motioning to Brooke to follow. “Go help Nick with the popcorn machine,” she directed. “I’ll teach you how to do register stuff once it slows down.”  
  


It wasn’t until over half an hour later that the lobby emptied out and Audrey had a moment to glance over at Brooke at the other end of the counter, where Nick had left her a few moments before at the end of his shift. She was toying with the timer setting on the popcorn machine and muttering what Audrey could only imagine were vivid curses under her breath. She had thrown her hair into a messy bun on top of her head, her bangs plastered to her forehead with sweat. There was a smear of grease on her cheek that caught the light when she turned and saw Audrey’s taunting smile and cocked eyebrow.

“What’s so funny, Jensen?” Brooke started smiling too, eyes going wide with amusement and surprise at Audrey’s gleeful expression.

“This is definitely your best look yet,” Audrey said, waving a hand in Brooke’s direction. Brooke grinned wider and struck a pose, turning to reveal streaks of bright M&M color smudged along the back of her arm where she’d rested her elbow on melted candy. “Oh, shit,” Audrey pointed, laughing, and Brooke twisted her arm around to see the damage.

“Well, guess that’s what i get for wearing real clothes to this place,” Brooke said lightly “Got any stain remover around here?”

Audrey glanced through the disorganized shelves under the register before grabbing the container of Clorox wipes and walking down to the concessions area. “Sorry, this is the best we’ve got in terms of cleaning supplies, and i honestly have no idea what it does to fabric,” Audrey held up the container, and Brooke shrugged in agreement. Audrey tugged a wipe from the container which was, of course, oversaturated and dripping. She squeezed some of the liquid into the mop bucket. Brooke held out her arm, clearly not interested in touching the wipe herself, so Audrey took her wrist and gently bent her arm upwards to get a better look at the stain. The chocolate ran from the middle of Brooke’s forearm to her elbow, an impressive multicolored smear.

“Nice Jackson Pollack you got here,” Audrey jibed as she dabbed uncertainly at Brooke’s sleeve, feeling suddenly awkward. She could feel Brooke’s eyes on her and knew full well that an embarrassing flush was probably rising in her own cheeks.

Even though they’d been friends for months now, often meeting for coffee or hanging out at each other’s houses, they really didn’t touch all that frequently. When they did, it was always in the presence of others; Audrey reaching out to Brooke to get her attention in a conversation, Brooke resting her head briefly on Audrey’s shoulder for comfort during a moment of sadness or sleepiness. This was the first moment Audrey could remember when she’d touched Brooke like this, almost unnecessarily, letting her thumb press into the top of Brooke’s wrist and the pads of her fingers rest against her pulse, even though Brooke was fully capable of holding her own arm still. Her skin was soft and slicked–not unpleasantly, Audrey thought guiltily–with a thin layer of sweat and popcorn grease.

Brooke let her arm rest lightly in Audrey’s grip. Audrey’s hand encircled her wrist easily, and Audrey was reminded of how small Brooke was. Usually, it was easy to forget; her giant heels and even bigger attitude made it easy to envision her much larger than she was. But here, with Brooke in her plain black flats and striped vest, Audrey was suddenly aware that she was actually the taller and older of the two, however slight the two inches and three months were between them.

“Sorry, don’t think this is gonna do anything,” Audrey muttered and stepped back, letting go of Brooke’s wrist and flinging the wipe into the trash. Her eyes and nose stung from the chemical scent of the Clorox hanging in the air. Brooke, seemingly unaffected by Audrey’s sudden awkwardness, inspected the stain one more time before shrugging.

“Well, thanks anyway for trying. We’ll just consider this one a sacrifice to the Zenith Theater gods.” she scrunched her nose, thinking. “Besides, at our pay grade, I’ll be able to afford a new one in oh, what, seven years?”  
Audrey rolled her eyes. “If your clothes are so expensive, I think you might be in the wrong line of work.” But she watched Brooke carefully through her bangs, and she knew Brooke would understand the real question behind the jab.

_What are you doing here?_

Brooke sighed.  “I just can’t take my dad’s money anymore. For a while, it was fun to spend enough to make him notice. I liked getting a rise out of him, and I felt like I was really getting back at him for everything he’s done to me, and to my mom. But now…” she leaned back against the counter. “I guess i feel like i need to start taking care of myself for real. I don’t want to wake up tomorrow and realize the only thing i know how to do is spend my dad’s money.”

Audrey leaned against the counter next to her, arms folded, and her elbow brushed the edge of Brooke’s arm. “Well, now you can officially say you have two skills: spending your dad’s money, and manning the world’s most unreliable popcorn machine.” Brooke cracked a smile at that, and soon they were both laughing again.


	2. Chapter 2

Even though she’d never worked retail or food service before, Brooke picked up the responsibilities of the movie theater quickly. By the time her two-week trial period was over, Brooke felt pretty confident that she’d become a useful part of the team. A meeting with Maura, her supervisor, confirmed this--however begrudgingly they’d initially hired the unpopular mayor’s daughter, no one could deny Brooke was a natural at charming both customers and the finicky Super Nacho machine.

“Check it out: I’m officially a real person!” Brooke said to Audrey, holding up her vest adorned with her new Zenith Theater official name badge. It was the end of their shift, and Audrey sat at the break room table, her feet up on its surface. Her boots were dusty from taking all the trash out to the dumpster in the dry gravel parking lot out back, and her hair was disheveled and slightly damp from the exertion in the muggy June heat.

“Glad to hear it. So you can take the garbage out from now on,” she responded wearily. Brooke grimaced in disgust as she turned toward her, but the look faded quickly as she took in the full effect of Audrey after an eight hour shift. She had to admit this was a good look for her--her eyeliner was smudged just so, and her haphazard bangs, so rarely pushed back from her face these days, were swept away from her forehead as if she’d been riding a motorcycle for the past several hours instead of cleaning slushie syrup out of the carpet. Brooke looked away quickly and fussed with her own bangs in the mirror. 

“Are you still down to drive me home?” she asked. Her dad was getting her car cleaned and detailed because he felt guilty about how late he’d been working lately. He’d offered to lend her one of the others, but Brooke didn’t especially want to pull up to her minimum-wage job in an Aston Martin.

She caught a flash of surprise on Audrey’s face reflected in the mirror. So she’d forgotten, then. Brooke sighed.

“You don’t have to. I can get an Uber or something.”

“No, it’s totally fine. I can do it,” Audrey replied. She stood up and rolled her shoulders before grabbing her bag, clearly worn out from a day on her feet. “Let’s go.”

 

* * *

 

Brooke lived about halfway across town from the theater, and even in the center of town the streets were quiet at this time of night. One perk of working late all the time: the commute home was usually peaceful.

Brooke had never been in Audrey’s car before, and she took in the worn interior in silence. It wasn’t messy, exactly; there had been a binder full of CDs and Audrey’s blue jacket on the passenger seat when Brooke opened the door, which Audrey had hastily chucked in the back. But other than that, it was empty save for a few crumpled receipts on the floor and a few aux cables strung haphazardly around the center console. 

“I just realized you’ve never driven me anywhere,” Brooke said as Audrey pulled out of the lot. Audrey snorted.

“That’s because you drive any time we go anywhere,” she replied.

“Well, that’s because I have seat warmers and Bluetooth capabilities.”

“Really?” Audrey responded, eyes on the road. “It always felt more like a metaphor for our friendship to me.”

Brooke shifted in her seat to face her. “What does that mean?”

Audrey shrugged. She was reclined slightly in the driver’s seat, her right hand loosely gripping the bottom of the steering wheel, wrist upturned. Despite her casual pose, she kept her eyes trained on the windshield, not meeting Brooke’s gaze for a moment despite the empty, wide street in front of them.

“You take control.” She followed up hurriedly. “It’s not a bad thing.”

Brooke sat with that for a moment. Control was something she hadn’t thought about in a long time, not since before Piper. She didn’t think any of them had any control, but she supposed Audrey was right: she liked to be the one with her foot on the gas whenever possible. 

“Well, how does it feel to be in the driver’s seat this time?” The flirtatious tone in Brooke’s voice was automatic and unplanned, but she caught the blush creeping up Audrey’s neck in the glow of the streetlight.

Audrey finally looked away from the road for a moment, tapping her smartphone alive in its holster. She clicked through the menus, eyes glancing back and forth between the screen and the street. After a moment, gritty guitar music flowed through the car, the slight tinniness of the elderly speakers tinting the distortion and growly vocals a shade darker than they already were. Brooke felt the seat shaking slightly from the noise.

“Feels great,” Audrey said, raising her voice over the music.

 

* * *

 

They couldn’t talk much after that. Audrey dropped Brooke off at her house and drove straight to Noah’s.

 

“Where have you been?” Noah asked as Audrey walked through his bedroom door and fell immediately prone on his bed, her legs dangling off the side to keep her grimy boots away from his sheets.

“Sorry, I forgot I told Brooke I’d bring her home after work.”

“Oh, fair enough. Speaking of which, I saw Jake at the Grindhouse today. He seemed more aggro than usual. Did something happen with them? The fact that she didn’t ask him for a ride is weird, right?”

Audrey responded without sitting up. “She didn’t bring him up at all, actually.” From her spot, she could see the top edge of the murderboard, which, over the last few months, had become a celebration of survival rather than a spiderweb of suspects. Pictures of Audrey, Noah, Emma, Brooke, Jake, and Zoe were slowly taking over, clustered haphazardly over news clippings and red string like new wallpaper over the old. Audrey noticed one in particular, which Noah must have printed since the last time she’d been over: it was from a beach day they’d had a few weeks ago, deep in the swampy throes of early summer. Brooke was posing with her arms above her head, flourescent pink bikini and tanned skin splotched with mud and sand from the bank of Wren Lake. She had her enormous, ridiculous sunglasses on and one of Maggie’s oversized sunhats Brooke had taken from Emma’s beach bag. Audrey wondered idly if Noah realized how weird it was for him to have a picture of Brooke in a bikini on his wall.

“Really? No Jake talk at all? That’s a first.” Noah swiveled his chair around, facing away from his computer where he’d been editing audio for the next episode of _The Morgue._ Audrey forced her attention back to the conversation at hand. Noah continued. “Usually she’s front-and-center with the details of their ins and outs.”

“Yeah, well, not today, apparently.” Audrey felt restless suddenly, the weariness in her bones replaced with something electric and uncomfortable. She itched to change the subject. “Where’s Zoe?”  
It was an easy cop-out: Noah was always willing to talk about his girlfriend. Zoe and Noah had gotten close at the end of the school year, after everything with Piper, and even after only a few months Audrey could see the way Zoe had fundamentally changed Noah’s life. It was like her existence had supercharged him somehow.

“She is working on her application for the SpaceX internship program,” he answered proudly. “A year early, the weirdo. Wanna catch up on that new sci-fi show she hates while she’s gone?”

Audrey couldn’t imagine sitting still through an entire episode of anything.

“Actually, I have to head out.”  
“What? You just got here!”

But Audrey was already collecting her things and bolting for the door.

 

* * *

 

Audrey pulled up to the curb half a block before Brooke’s house and cut her engine. Through the open passenger window, she could see lights on throughout the yard, illuminating her entire property despite the late hour. Like the rest of them, Audrey knew, Brooke rarely slept in the dark.

Audrey had no idea what she was doing here. She thrummed her fingers against the steering wheel restlessly, her silver rings clacking where they hit the plastic. She’d gotten in her car at Noah’s without a plan. She just knew where she wanted to be.

_ Parked outside Brooke’s house like some sort of stalker. Great. _

Although all of Audrey’s friends lived in nice houses, Brooke’s was--well, it was the Brooke of the group. It shone with particular brilliance, set into the hillside above the lake like it had always been there, an ancient natural formation in sleek glass and stone.

She noticed now that in place of Mayor Maddox’s convertible in the driveway, there was a hulking mass of black metal resting on oversized tires. Audrey’s heart sank for reasons she couldn’t quite articulate, her nervous energy releasing and dropping into the pit of her stomach like a palmful of rocks she didn’t know she was holding.

The Beast. Jake’s truck.

Of course Jake was there, Audrey reasoned. He was basically Brooke’s boyfriend, although she would never call him that outright. When the mayor worked late, it was only natural that Brooke would invite her not-boyfriend over. Audrey felt embarrassed, though there was no one around to see her. She still didn’t know what she’d expected by showing up at Brooke’s house in the middle of the night unannounced, but whatever possibilities lurked in her subconscious felt suddenly extinguished. She started her car and drove back toward her neighborhood.

 

* * *

 

Turned toward the half-shaded living room windows, Brooke saw Audrey’s characteristic maroon death trap pass through the lights illuminating the walkway in front of her house. There was no earthly reason why Audrey would be driving by at this time of night, but at the sight of her car Brooke felt suddenly resolute. She turned back toward Jake.

“Jake, this whole thing has been ridiculous since it started. It’s not working. You need to leave.”

They’d been talking for nearly an hour, Jake protesting Brooke’s decision at every turn. She knew that he loved her, even though he’d never said it, and no amount of posturing could mask the real sadness on his face. 

“You’ll regret this,” he said before charging out the door to his truck. Brooke didn’t move until it roared to life, headlights sweeping down the driveway as he sped away. 

“I don’t know that I will,” she murmured to herself, finally turning away from the windows and heading to bed. Sleep seemed impossible, but she had her first solo closing shift at the theater the next day and needed some small amount of rest. 

As she climbed the stairs, she considered texting Audrey to ask what she was doing on Brooke’s street, but instead typed out simply,  _ coffee before work tomorrow? _

The reply was almost instantaneous.  _ You know it. _


	3. Chapter 3

“Have a great night, folks!” Brooke said brightly as she held the front door open for the last group heading out of the theatre, letting her face fall into a scowl as soon as they passed by. She’d hovered in the lobby for an extra two minutes past ten, waiting for people to get the hint themselves, before loudly announcing that the theater was closed. 

“I will never again stick around the mall until the last minute,” she muttered to herself, shutting and locking the door. Finally alone, she wrestled the large yellow mop bucket out onto the floor. “Mop first,” Audrey had told her earlier that day over coffee. “You’ll feel gross but it’s the hardest part of closing. You don’t want to leave it til the end.”

_ She was right about the first part, at least _ , Brooke thought. She was already damp from the sweet-smelling soap mixture even though she hadn’t yet touched the mop to the floor.

She started with the tile in front of the door, glancing uneasily out into the dark parking lot. With the bright lights indoors, it was nearly impossible to see anything outside, and Brooke found herself jumping slightly when she caught her own reflection moving in the glass. She felt exposed, like she was on a well-lit stage in front of an audience she couldn’t see. 

Just then, headlights swept across the glass as a car rolled into the lot. Brooke cupped her hands around her eyes and placed them on the glass, trying to make out the vehicle, but it had already rounded the corner toward the main parking area. Brooke felt her heartbeat speed up. She stepped away from the door, backing into the room until her back was against the front of the counter.

It could be Maura, Brooke reasoned, before remembering that Maura spent Sundays looking after her mom in the city. And Audrey hadn’t said anything about stopping by, but maybe…

Brooke grabbed her phone off the countertop and looked to see if she had any texts. Sure enough, there was one from Audrey, sent ten minutes ago.

_ How’s your first close going? I’m next door with Noah if you need anything _ .

Hands shaking slightly now, Brooke clicked “Call.” Audrey picked up after two rings.

“Hey, Brooke. Everything okay?”

“Hey, are you in the theater parking lot right now?” Brooke tried to keep the uneasiness out of her voice and failed.

“No, I’m still at the Grindhouse. Are you alright? Did something happen?”

Brooke wasn’t quite sure what to say. “Uh, everything is fine. I’m mopping, like you said.”  
Audrey’s tone was still concerned. “Okay, good job. How can I help?”  
“I think someone is here,” Brooke answered finally. “I saw a car pull into the lot. It’s probably nothing, but it feels--” 

Her voice was really shaking now, and Audrey cut her off. “I’m coming. Don’t go near the doors, and don’t put your keys or your phone down for a second. I’ll be there in five minutes.” Her tone was deathly serious, her voice low and urgent. 

“It’s probably just some kids looking for a quiet place to smoke weed,” Brooke responded, trying to be reasonable, to collect her racing thoughts and rein in the spiraling ribbons of panic unraveling inside her stomach.

“Brooke, it could be anything, and whatever it is, you shouldn’t have to face it alone. I’m on my way.”   


 

* * *

Normally, it was a ten minute walk from the Grindhouse to the theater. Audrey made it in five, panting slightly as she half-jogged into the employee parking lot behind the building and in through the back door. She found Brooke sitting on the floor of the hallway between the staff lounge and the main lobby, her arms wrapped tightly around her knees, keys and phone clutched in each hand.

“Hey, you’re okay,” Audrey said, immediately dropping to a crouch in front of Brooke, steadying herself on the ground with her left hand and placing her right over Brooke’s knee. 

“I heard someone banging on the front door when i went back to the lounge to get the spare set of keys,” Brooke said quietly. “A killer wouldn’t knock on the door, right?”  
“A garden-variety murderer wouldn’t do a lot of things Piper Shaw did,” Audrey responded. “Given our history, I think hiding is a perfectly reasonable reaction. Although you realize this is a terrible hiding spot, right?”

Brooke scoffed at that. “I’m not hiding. I’m just waiting in the best-lit part of the building between the two main exits. No one is going to catch me by surprise back here.”

Audrey cocked her head. “You thought about this ahead of time, didn’t you?” Brooke just smiled; she knew Audrey already had the answer. 

Audrey swiveled and sat down next to Brooke against the wall, slinging her arm over her shoulder. Brooke nestled her face into the curve of Audrey’s neck, and Audrey caught the scent of vanilla clinging to her hair. She hoped to God Brooke couldn’t feel her heartbeat speed up.

Just then, they heard it: someone banging insistently against the glass panes of the front door, hard enough to shake the glass in its setting. At the sound, Brooke nestled almost imperceptibly closer into Audrey, and Audrey pulled her arm tighter around her in response, stroking her thumb along Brooke’s arm soothingly.

“Damn it, they’re gonna break the door,” Audrey muttered. “I’m gonna go tell whoever it is to fuck off.”

“I’m coming with you,” Brooke said. “Technically, it’s my job to tell them to fuck off. You aren’t even on shift.”

Audrey knew better than to argue. The two of them headed uncertainly down the hall and up to the double doors leading into the lobby. 

Audrey took a deep breath and pulled the doors open. In the glow of the front lights, she could make out a figure with their back turned to the doors, hands in their pockets.

“Oh, God  _ damn  _ it,” Brooke muttered fiercely before charging in. Audrey rushed to follow behind her.

When Brooke began to unlock the door, the figure spun around, and Audrey finally let out the long breath she’d been holding.

It was Jake.

Brooke yanked the door open, posture stiff and uninviting.

“Jake, what are you doing here? We’re closed.”

“Obviously. I came to see you.” Jake moved to come through the door, but Brooke stuck her arm across the entryway, barring him.

“What part of ‘this isn’t working’ do you not understand?” Brooke asked.

Audrey’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, which caught Jake’s attention.

“You mean she hasn’t told everyone by now? Miss Teen Lakewood 2016 over here decided she was too good for the Jake,” he said. He attempted to get past Brooke’s arm again, but she held firm, forcing him to take a step back.

“What the hell has gotten into you?” he asked, anger rising in his voice. 

“Jake, I am at work,” Brooke said, low and deliberate.

“Can’t you take five minutes to talk this out?” 

At this point, Audrey ran her hands through her hair in frustration, stepping back from the conversation and leaning against the concessions counter. This is always how it went with Brooke and Jake. Brooke would call it quits, Jake would show up and beg forgiveness, and Brooke would inevitably say--

“No.” Her voice was firm. “I am telling you to leave. This is over.” Audrey stopped moving and stared at the back of Brooke’s head. She couldn’t see her face, but something in her expression caused Jake to finally shake his head and look away.

“This is ridiculous,” Jake finally scoffed, but he seemed shaken, his hands shoved into his front pockets and his eyes cast downward from Brooke’s serious and unflinching gaze.

“Goodbye, Jake,” Brooke said, so quietly Audrey almost didn’t catch it. She shut the door and locked it, leaving Jake alone outside to slowly make his way back to his truck. Once he was out of sight, Brooke sighed and turned around.

“Sorry about that,” she said, a note of anger still in her voice. She walked briskly back to where she’d left the mop and grabbed it out of the bucket, splashing water onto the floor and indelicately pushing it around.

“Hey, hey,” Audrey said, going to her and grabbing the mop. “It’s okay if you need a minute. I can do this while you sit.” Brooke looked like she was going to argue, but after a moment she sighed and sat at one of the few tables clustered near the concession stand and put her chin in her hands, looking on as Audrey strained the mop--”generally, this works better than just pushing dirty water around the floor,” she couldn’t help mentioning with a teasing smile--and began to methodically wipe down the tile.

“So…” Audrey said after a moment, uncertainly. “Do you want to talk about it?” She glanced up at Brooke, who’d been silently watching her.

“There’s not much to talk about,” Brooke replied wearily.  “I dumped him yesterday. I’m thinking of our relationship as a teenage lapse in judgement.”

“Teenage? You guys have been dancing around each other since the third grade. What happened?”

Brooke sighed. “He’s just Jake. It’s not like it could ever go anywhere. It happened and now it’s over.” She looked like she wanted to say more, so Audrey kept mopping silently, hoping she would continue. After a few minutes, Brooke sighed again.

“I know this is really stupid, but I thought that being with Jake would finally feel right, like we’ve always been building toward something, you know? I thought that slow burn would finally pay off.” She shrugged. “But when it finally came down to it, I never really felt anything. No rush, no feeling of satisfaction. Just boredom. Like i got what I wanted and now I already want something else.” Audrey’s head shot up at that, and she turned back to Brooke.

“What do you mean?”  
Brooke waved her hand, dismissing the thought. “Nothing specific. I just know that I want more. Does that make me a shitty person? After everything?”  
Audrey put the mop in the bucket, wiping her hands on her jeans as she walked over to Brooke’s table and sat down in the chair next to hers, propping her boots on the rungs of Brooke’s chair. “I am the worst person to ask about right and wrong. I think if you want more, you’re probably missing something. If it’s not working, it’s not working.” Brooke nodded, but she didn’t seem convinced. 

“You are not shitty, okay?” Audrey reached out and placed her hand on Brooke’s cheek, stroking her thumb along her cheekbone. As soon as she touched Brooke’s skin, Audrey wondered what the hell she was doing; it felt like her mind was one step behind her limbs. But Brooke placed her hand over Audrey’s and leaned forward so that her forehead was pressed to Audrey’s shoulder. She wrapped her free arm around her, resting it along the back of Audrey’s neck and pressing her fingers into her shoulder. 

Audrey knew she’d want to hang onto this moment, keep Brooke close for as long as possible so she could remember every detail of this. She pressed her lips to Brooke’s hair gently before resting her cheek on her head, breathing in vanilla and, more subtly, the saccharine scent of the mop soap.  She felt the huff of air along her throat as Brooke exhaled, her breathing finally steadying for the first time since Audrey arrived. Audrey suddenly felt how much fear she’d been carrying, every terrible possibility that crossed Brooke’s mind in the five minutes it took Audrey to get to the theater. Audrey silently cursed herself for not running faster.

“Thank you for coming,” Brooke said, as if she could hear what Audrey was thinking. 

“Of course,” Audrey murmured back, her face still pressed close to Brooke’s. She felt every detail of what she wanted pressing against her skin from the inside, the questions sitting impatiently along the back of her throat, waiting to be asked.

But instead, after drinking in another few seconds of Brooke pressed against her, she whispered finally, “Let me walk you to your car.” Brooke sighed and sat up, inhaling deeply through her nose and exhaling heavily. She wiped her eyes and pushed her hair away from her face.

“Sorry for being the most useless new employee ever,” she joked weakly, and Audrey smiled.

“Please. Nick left the popcorn machine on overnight after his first shift alone. The thing practically overflowed the room.”

Brooke laughed at that, and Audrey felt the intensity in the room slowly dissipate. Brooke went to gather her things from the back, and Audrey hurriedly turned off the popcorn and nacho makers before following her out.

 

* * *

 

Brooke stopped walking when they reached Audrey’s car.

“I said I’d walk you to yours,” Audrey protested, but Brooke shook her head.

“That’s silly. Mine is less than thirty feet away. Just watch me drive off, if that makes you feel better,” she said. Audrey leaned against her bumper and Brooke stood in front of her, heart pounding again. She was probably going to give herself some kind of heart problem, she thought distantly. There was only so much panic one person could take in a night. But this was a different kind of fear than anything she’d felt in a long time, the kind that came from anticipation rather than dread.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Audrey asked, searching her face.

Instead of answering, Brooke took a step toward her, so that Audrey’s feet were planted on either side of her own, and leaned into her. She put her arms gingerly around Audrey’s neck, careful not to pull her in, wanting more than anything for this to be entirely Audrey’s decision.

Almost automatically, Audrey’s arms circled Brooke’s waist, pulling them flush against each other. Brooke felt heat and light rushing from her core to every extremity, warming her more than the summer air ever could. She looked into Audrey’s eyes, which had gone wide and searching, more serious than Brooke had ever seen them.

“Are you sure?” she whispered, her breath tickling Brooke’s lips. Brooke nodded slowly and Audrey leaned in, pressing her lips gently to Brooke’s as her arms tightened around her body. 

For the briefest moment, Brooke remembered a drunken night at Nina’s two years earlier, one of the first summers of high school. Tyler had dared Nina and Brooke to kiss, and in the haze of peach schnapps and jacuzzi heat they’d agreed, giggling and splashing around as they embraced. The kiss had been sloppy and brief, and Nina had recoiled into Tyler’s arms, her shrieking laughter loud enough to send Sage into a frenzy. Brooke had settled back into the water, laughing and rolling her eyes with the rest of them, but she’d felt suddenly, painfully sober, and she’d left the party not long after.

The scene played unbidden in her head as she leaned into Audrey but quickly dispelled as she laced her fingers in the close-cropped hair at the base of Audrey’s neck, pulling her in closer, tasting coffee and sugar on her lips. Brooke sighed against Audrey’s mouth as Audrey’s hands slowly stroked along her back.

Finally, Audrey pulled away, breathing heavily. She raked her hand through her hair, eyes watching Brooke’s face, seemingly waiting for her to react. 

Brooke pulled her into a hug, and Audrey wrapped her arms tightly around her. They held each other silently for a moment, until Brooke could feel her heartbeat slowing down. She knew they had to talk about it, but she couldn’t bear the thought of anything ruining this moment.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” she whispered, kissing Audrey’s cheek gently before pulling away and walking to her car.


	4. Chapter 4

Audrey’s phone vibrated against her side, the sound muted by the blankets tangled around her body. She jolted awake as if it had electrocuted her, pulling the device out from under her body where she’d eventually fallen asleep on it.

It was Noah. _Desperate to see that boy band slasher today. Brooke said she’d hook us up after her matinee shift. You in?_

Audrey felt a second jolt at the sight of Brooke’s name. Her body, stiff from tossing and turning all night, already felt wrung out and worn. She’d gotten up several times during the night to check her phone, but there had been nothing; no texts, no Snapchats, no communication whatsoever from Brooke in the twelve hours since she’d seen her in the parking lot. Since she’d _kissed_ her in the parking lot.

In the hazy, grey light of a cloudy morning, the night’s events seemed like a dream. Audrey held onto the memory of Brooke’s warmth pressed against her body, her soft hair brushing Audrey’s jaw as she leaned into her. _Nope, definitely real._

What was Brooke thinking? Did she regret it? Was she high on mop fumes? 

Shaking her head to clear out her darkening thoughts, Audrey tapped out a response to Noah. _Sure. But if u grab Zoe’s hand at the scary parts and not mine, it’ll hurt my feelings._ She tossed her phone aside on the bed and rubbed her eyes, pushing her bangs out of her face. She felt a little more at ease knowing when she’d see Brooke next.

Her phone buzzed again and she grabbed for it, but it was only Noah.

_Grindhouse in 20?_

Audrey groaned, but she was too awake and on edge to stay home much longer.

_25\. This kind of beauty takes time._

 

* * *

 

When Audrey arrived, she saw Noah through the window, talking enthusiastically to Emma, who was in her usual Grindhouse employee green.

“Emma, you gotta get out of this shift,” he was saying as Audrey passed through the door. “This movie is going to change the genre. I’m telling you.”

“Sorry, Noah,” Emma glanced at Audrey and smiled gratefully as she sat down. Audrey winked at her knowingly. “At least you’ve got Audrey here to go with you.”

“And Brooke,” Audrey said without thinking. She rushed to follow up. “And Zoe!” _too loud, too loud,_ she thought immediately. Emma shot her a knowing look before heading back to the register.

 “Great, at least three other people in this town will experience the greatness that is _Boy Band Bloodbath,_ ” Noah replied, cocking his eyebrow at Audrey before addressing the coffeeshop at large. “Seriously, people? Culturally-relevant satire and gory goodness? I’m disappointed in all of you.” Then he turned back to Audrey, his normally good-natured smile turning conspiratorial.

“Shut up.” Audrey didn’t need him to say anything. She knew what he was thinking. While she had never explicitly confessed to Noah her preoccupation with Lakewood’s most controversial beauty queen, she knew she didn’t have to.

“Listen, Audrey, when I was barely able to speak to Zoe without falling all over myself, you were the one who told me to get my head out of my ass and ask her out, and look how that worked out!’ He pulled out his phone and hit the home button, illuminating his lock screen. It was a picture of Noah and Zoe at Wren Lake, Zoe’s lips pressed to Noah’s cheek, his face bright and laughing. 

“Put it away or i’m gonna throw up on you,” Audrey muttered. Noah was so disgustingly in love with his girlfriend. It didn’t make Audrey jealous, exactly--it just demonstrated that some people in the world had something she didn’t.

“Look, all I’m saying is that you should give it a shot,” Noah pleaded. “What’s the worst thing that could happen?”

“Knowing her former clique’s history, she could probably find a video of me dancing to Tegan and Sara and show it to all of Lakewood on a Jumbotron,” Audrey replied. 

Noah laughed and shoved her lightly. Audrey knew it meant he was done pressing.

“Don’t be silly,” Noah said. “We both know you don’t dance. Now, for today’s real business: you have to help me find a shirt that really screams ‘I am ready to see some pretty boys get slaughtered.’” 

Audrey rolled her eyes but agreed without much of a fight. Shopping with Noah would help take her mind off of Brooke’s lips for a few hours. Or seconds.

 

* * *

 

Brooke shrugged out of her polyester vest and shoved it into her locker, smoothing the front of her sweater and picking off the bits of popcorn that had embedded themselves into the cashmere. She’d taken to wearing her softest layers under the itchy, stiff fabric of her work uniform, but she’d suddenly wished she’d gone with something other than the thin grey sweater and faded skinny jeans she’d sleepily stumbled into that morning. She tugged at her hem in the mirror before reaching back into her locker for her concealer. She’d brought along her darkest red lipstick in case she needed some added courage, but now it felt like too much. Was it too much? 

When was the last time she’d fussed this much about a not-date?

She glanced at her watch as she finished dabbing at the dark circles under her eyes, a product of too little sleep that night. Noah, Audrey, and Zoe would be showing up any minute.

Brooke tossed her makeup into her bag, took one last glance in the mirror—it’d have to do, she supposed—and headed back into the fluorescent hallway, stopping for the briefest second in the place where Audrey had found her the night before. For the millionth time that day, she relived the moment: her lips so close to Audrey’s neck, breathing in the citrus-and-pepper scent of her, Audrey’s voice soft and low, the sound of it rumbling in her chest…

Brooke’s breath caught, and she hurried out into the lobby before she lost her composure entirely.

When Brooke walked through the double doors, Audrey was leaning against the concession counter talking to Nick. She looked like she’d walked out of some high school’s production of _The Outsiders_ even more than usual. Her favorite pair of ultra-distressed black jeans were tucked into her tallest biker boots, and her cropped red sweater was layered underneath her newest jacket acquisition, a black leather monstrosity which somehow had even more buckles and zippers than her last one. Brooke allowed herself to wonder for a moment whether Audrey Jensen had dressed up for her.

“Hey!” Audrey called over, breaking Brooke’s reverie. Her eyes crinkled into her rare genuine smile. She walked over to where Brooke was still standing, but stopped just short of normal talking distance, suddenly seeming unsure.

“Hey,” Brooke responded, scrambling to think of something to say. “Noah said he’d roped you into this ridiculous ordeal, too. Do you know anything about this movie?”

“Nope, just that every boy with hair longer than an inch is gonna get wrecked,” Audrey replied dryly. She shoved her hands in her pockets and looked down at the carpet. Brooke noticed for the first time how long her hair was getting; when she looked up and tossed it out of her eyes, her bangs skimmed the bridge of her nose.

"What are you staring at?" Audrey asked, the question gentle rather than accusatory. Her unblinking gaze, seemingly so cold to others, felt itchy and hot on Brooke's skin.

"You need a haircut," Brooke replied softly, cracking a small smile. Audrey chuckled as she looked away, rubbing the tip of her nose with her thumb as she did. This was her tell; Brooke knew she did it whenever she was nervous. Brooke allowed herself a moment of pride: _she_ was making _Audrey_ nervous.

Over Audrey's shoulder, Brooke saw Noah and Zoe approaching the glass doors that led into the theater, Zoe’s arm slung casually across Noah’s shoulders.

Brooke’s window of opportunity was quickly narrowing. She took a breath and closed the distance between herself and Audrey in two steps. She leaned in even closer to speak.

"Come over after this?" her voice was quiet and urgent. In her formidable heels, she towered over Audrey. Audrey blinked up at her, stormy eyes unreadable. She held her gaze for a moment before answering.

"Yeah. Okay."

Brooke smiled quickly--her last smile just for Audrey—and took a step back. She cast her attention toward the doors.

"Finally, Zoah arrives!" She calls, her voice projecting easily across the lobby. "We were beginning to worry you got lost on your way out of each other's clothes."

"I resent this!" Noah replies as they approach. "I'll have you know I am the leading explorer of--"

"Alright, we get it," Zoe interjected, much to Brooke's relief. "Everyone ready for some murder?”

"Always," Audrey replied, her voice just slightly louder and more cheerful than necessary. She immediately headed inside. Brooke took a breath to center herself before following.

No one questioned the seating arrangement once they entered the theater. Noah bee-lined for the center (as always) and Audrey sat to his right (as always). Zoe flanked Noah on the other side, and Brooke sat to Audrey’s right. She immediately pulled out her phone; they all did. Something about weeks of time-sensitive texts from demented killers really drove home the need for frequent phone checks and rapid responses. Two-plus hours in the dark without cell access was something Brooke hadn't attempted since before Nina’s death, even though they were supposedly safe now. She felt her heartbeat speed up slightly at the prospect, even as she saw she had just one new text: the standard _call me. please_. from Jake. It was the third one today.

They’d sat down just in time--within moments, the lights started to dim. Brooke kept her phone face down on her lap, right hand resting on top of it to feel any potentially life-altering notifications. She glanced to her left and noticed Audrey had done the same. Audrey noticed their matching poses as well and cracked a small smile, barely visible in the green glow of the preview screen. She leaned over their shared armrest, her forehead barely brushing Brooke’s temple as she murmured, “Old habits die hard.” Brooke felt the softness of her hair on her cheekbone, tickling where the edges of Audrey’s bangs touched her skin.

Brooke angled her face toward Audrey’s. “And PTSD dies never, probably.”

She felt Audrey’s warm breath on her cheek when she exhaled sharply through her nose with dark amusement. Brooke could so easily press her forehead to Audrey’s--it felt almost possible in this moment, their faces angled so closely together. But before she even finished the thought, Audrey leaned away and refocused on the screen, now a blur of colors and light as two robots punched each other against the gritty backdrop of post-apocalyptic Somewhere.

Brooke leaned back in her seat and tried to focus, too. But at that moment, her phone buzzed, the short vibration indicating a new text message. Brooke ignored it, but it buzzed again, and again. She reluctantly flipped it over, rushing to turn down the brightness as low as possible.

Jake, Jake, and Jake.

_Im sorry abt last night. I just miss you._

_Seriously wyd tho? You got off work a half hr ago._

_Brooke plz answer_

Audrey, Noah, and Zoe were all looking at her, and she shook her head and rolled her eyes, the international sign for “It’s just Jake being Jake.”

“Give it to me and I’ll put it with mine. That way you won’t have to think about it.” Audrey held out her hand and Brooke handed her the phone gratefully after putting Jake on Do Not Disturb. Audrey stacked their phones together and put them in the pocket on the inside of her jacket. Once they were secure, she leaned back a little more in her seat, resting her arm along her half of the armrest. Brooke turned her eyes back to the screen, staring blankly through the rest of the previews before she realized she wasn’t taking in a single thing going on in any of them.

_What the hell is happening?_

Brooke realized she wasn’t terribly interested in the answer to that question. She felt like she was boarding a rollercoaster, her adrenaline blending thrill and nausea in an indistinguishable maelstrom inside her stomach. She’d been to the movies with plenty of boys in various stages of non-relationships, but no amount of ambiguity or anticipation had ever affected her like this. Boys were easy. Boys were uncomplicated.

This was Audrey-fucking-Jensen.

Whatever the hell was happening, Brooke knew she was in trouble. But in this moment, all of the complicating factors felt far away. She allowed herself one more glance, promising herself that she’d really commit to the movie after this last look. She took in Audrey’s jawline, the smooth skin of her cheek, the cut of dark hair against her temple, all of it barely visible in the grey light of the spooky graveyard marking the beginning of tonight’s featured presentation. She fought the urge to run her fingers over the curve of Audrey’s ear and down her neck, opting instead to carefully placed her arm on the armrest beside Audrey’s. Better than nothing. The tight sleeve of her sweater pressed slightly against the soft leather of Audrey’s jacket.

After a moment, Audrey pulled her arm away. Brooke worked to quell the tiny bloom of disappointment in her chest, but realized after a moment that Audrey was just checking her phone. Like Brooke, she couldn’t simply ignore a notification. Satisfied that nothing catastrophic was happening, she tucked her phone away and put her arm back, somehow without touching Brooke at all. She settled into her seat, the fingers of her other hand drumming restlessly against her knee.

Brooke took a deep breath and let it out slowly. On screen, a headless zombie was slowly stalking an unsuspecting Bieber-lookalike in a conveniently empty venue. The music was building, signaling the approach of some impending brutality.

A few seats down, Noah was talking rapidly at the screen: “Oh, no no no, you do not want to go in the green room! See, this is just like _Killer Sound_ , when the audio engineer strangled that pop singer—“ his monologue was cut abruptly short as the zombie’s axe—he had an axe?—swung down into the shoulder of his victim. Noah yelped and then immediately chuckled delightedly.

Brooke grimaced, recoiling into her seat. She’d never had a taste for gore. As she shrank back into the cushion, Audrey’s pinky finger brushed ever so slightly against hers. Brooke looked over at her, but Audrey was still facing the movie, seemingly unfazed by the violence or the sudden contact with Brooke’s hand. Even so, Brooke’s heartbeat picked up, and as if acting of its own accord, her own pinky nudged at Audrey’s.

Audrey slowly lifted her finger and rested it on Brooke’s. It was such a tiny gesture that it could be an accident, but Brooke really, really hoped it wasn’t. She waited for an opportunity to push her luck.

It came a few scenes later, when the headless zombie and his newly-minted protege descended upon a roadie. The music reached a sudden and jarring crescendo, and Brooke jumped in half-faked fear, reaching for Audrey’s forearm with her free hand. Her fingers pressed into the supple leather of her jacket until she felt the form of Audrey’s arm beneath it. She clung to her, burying face in Audrey’s shoulder to shield her eyes from the innards splashing across the screen. Audrey sat completely still, and Brooke fought the urge to pull away immediately in embarrassment.

After a few beats, Brooke felt the warmth of Audrey’s free hand pressing gingerly against her head as if to shield her from the violence. Brooke breathed into Audrey’s neck, inhaling the now-familiar, peppery scent of her skin. Slowly, gently, she pressed her lips to Audrey’s jaw, kissing her once in the hollow of skin where her jawbone met her neck. She felt Audrey’s chest rise as she gasped softly and pressed her hand more firmly into Brooke’s hair, as if asking her to continue. Brooke complied, kissing her earlobe, her jaw again, the edge of her chin. Audrey’s fingers tangled in her hair as Brooke lingered over each slow kiss.

Brooke smiled against Audrey’s skin for a moment before rising back up to a normal sitting position, hand still pressed to Audrey’s forearm. She looked over at her, and this time Audrey was looking back, one corner of her mouth turned up in an incredulous half smile. She slid her hand over Brooke’s on the armrest, lacing their fingers together. Her free left hand came to rest on top of Brooke’s right, holding Brooke’s hand against her arm. She began rubbing small, soothing circles along the inside of Brooke’s thumb.

Brooke did not catch another second of the movie.

 

* * *

 

“It wasn’t everything I’d hoped it would be, but it was as gory as promised,” Noah said as they entered the parking lot, everyone squinting slightly in the afternoon light.

“I can’t believe you were really expecting cutting social commentary with your axe murders,” Audrey responded. She and Brooke had immediately let go of each other’s hands as the theatre lights went up, and they’d been too busy playing audience to Noah’s post-show review to do much more than steal glances at each other as they exited the theater.

“I think I need chocolate cake before we get too far into the politics of zombie movies,” Zoe said. “Grindhouse?”

“Excellent!” Noah nodded approvingly. “You guys coming?”

Brooke thought of her excuse first. “Sorry, my dad will blow a gasket if I’m not home for his stupid fundraiser tonight.” She rolled her eyes, playing the part perfectly. Audrey was impressed.

“Fair enough! What about you, Audrey?” Noah turned to her.

“Uh, no.” Audrey paused. “I promised my dad I’d help him, too.”

"Uh, OK,” Noah said, clearly confused, but he let it drop. Audrey made a mental note to thank him for letting her get away with that terrible excuse when all of this was over. “Guess it’s just you and me, Zo!”

They all made their ways to their cars. Audrey idled, awaiting Brooke’s instructions. After Noah and Zoe pulled out of the lot, Brooke came over and leaned in through Audrey’s open window.

“Still feel like hanging out?” She asked, casting her eyes down as she spoke. She seemed almost scared that Audrey would say no, and Audrey had to fight the urge to laugh. The idea that she’d want to be anywhere except near Brooke right now felt too absurd.

“Yeah. Yes.” Audrey smiled reassuringly. “Uh, your place?”

“That sounds like a plan,” Brooke replied, reaching into the car to brush Audrey’s bangs across her forehead carefully before turning and walking away.

Audrey took a few breaths before moving. She had to convince herself that the last few hours had, in fact, happened, and Brooke had actually touched her—in public! in daylight!—and it hadn’t been some kind of delusion. She had no idea where this was going to go, or what Brooke might have to say once they arrived at her place. She took out her phone and reread the text she’d received from Emma as the movie was starting: _It’s obvious Brooke has it BAD for you. Stop being a wimp._ She recalled her outburst at the Grindhouse earlier and winced, but she was grateful for the encouragement.

 _Well,_ she thought to herself as she put her car in gear, _here goes nothing_.


	5. Chapter 5

_ A/N: this chapter details some specific instances of bullying, including threats, taunts, and physical violence.  _

 

It had begun in seventh grade.

 

As always, Brooke sat in the back of the class during homeroom, fixing her berry lip gloss and talking with Nina and Riley. Their conversations were regularly interrupted by Will, Jake, and the other basketball players who sat across the room and turned every spare piece of paper into airplanes and origami footballs. Their homeroom teacher, Mrs. Mulvaney, tried her damnedest to keep everyone quiet during the announcements, but most of them had started drinking espresso that year, and nothing could calm them after their morning macchiatos. 

Even then, Nina was the loudest and brightest thing in the room. It was like her strawberry hair and blue eyes caught the thin March sunlight and reflected it back tenfold. Every morning, Brooke watched her effortlessly flit between mocking the boys and whispering about the girls, venom hitting her ever-moving target with razor-sharp precision.

Brooke couldn’t remember exactly what they were talking about that chilly day in early spring, except that Nina stopped mid-whisper as the classroom door creaked open, rolling her eyes with impatience as if the door itself were a rude intruder into their conversation. Brooke glanced to the front of the room, the buzz of the class quickly diminishing as the principal, Mr. Robertson, walked in. Though he was constantly smiling, his towering stature and booming voice demanded respect when he entered a classroom. A girl Brooke didn’t recognize followed him in, shoulders hunched and head bowed.

“Hey, guys. We’ve got a new student joining us today.”

“Awesome,” Nina muttered flatly as she regarded Lakewood’s newest. “More freaks.”

Brooke had to admit that she had a point. The new girl certainly wouldn’t be winning any personality contests anytime soon. She stared blankly out at the room through waxy black bangs, her canvas backpack hugged tightly against her navy hoodie. Her look, complete with tattered boot-cut jeans and dusty Converse, was anything but chic.

Mr. Robertson kept talking as every pair of eyes raked over the girl.

“This is Audrey. She just moved here from Boston, and I expect each of you to give her a big Lakewood Middle welcome as she settles in.” He gestured to a desk in the front row, and Audrey quickly sat, seemingly grateful to get out of the spotlight.

Jake whispered something to Will and Will laughed silently into his fist, trying not to draw the eye of Mr. Robertson or Mrs. Mulvaney. Brooke rolled her eyes as they snickered cruelly and turned to Nina to continue their conversation, but she was focused on Jake, trying to catch his eye to get in on the joke. Mr. Robertson left a few moments later and the normal buzz of the morning resumed.

 

The new girl--Audrey Jensen--was in two of Brooke’s other classes, English and Studio Art. Brooke had signed up for the art class to avoid a study hall with Nina and half of the basketball team, knowing that she’d spend the period ignored and bored otherwise. The room was in a quiet corner of the school, with two full walls of wide, sunny windows overlooking the baseball fields. Brooke found herself enjoying the class despite herself, mostly because the teacher let them draw or paint whatever they’d like and only spent a few minutes of each class lecturing on particular techniques. Plus, the class was small, so Brooke usually got an entire wooden work table to herself. It was her only class without either Nina or Jake, and it felt good to let her mind unravel for a while, even if it was only once per week.

Three days after Audrey arrived, she shuffled behind Brooke into the art room and hovered by the door, clearly unsure what to do next. Ms. Grant, the art teacher, was chronically late for class, and as Brooke placed her purse and drawing pad at her usual station, she imagined Audrey lingering awkwardly in silence at the front of the room for the next several minutes. She waved her over, gesturing at the seat in front of her. Audrey approached gratefully and set her shapeless canvas bag on the table across from Brooke. Today, her dark brown hair was pulled into a low ponytail, and her sideswept bangs almost completely obscured her right eye. She was wearing a black and white striped dress over a grey turtleneck.

“What’s with the outfit?” Brooke asked, head cocked. “You look like a preacher’s kid.”

“Uh.” Audrey shifted in her chair. “Yeah. I am.”

“Wait, really?”

“Uh.” Brooke was sensing a pattern to how Audrey began her sentences. “Yeah. My dad’s the new minister at First Church downtown.”

“Oh. That makes sense, then.” She paused, searching for something else to say. “What does your mom do?” 

“She goes to chemo appointments, mostly.” Audrey shrugged stiffly. “She’s still in Boston. All three of us were planning to move out here anyway so my dad could be closer to his parents, but Boston has better hospitals, so she stayed.”

Brooke’s head buzzed with clarifying questions--why would her dad leave her mom behind like that? Isn’t Audrey scared that she won’t see her again?--but she stayed quiet, sensing Audrey’s tension. For the first time, Brooke noticed a hardness underneath the new girl’s unremarkable exterior, like she was wearing a bulletproof vest under her clothes.  

They settled into awkward silence, the clock ticking quietly in the corner for another five minutes before Ms. Grant finally walked in. Audrey sat across from Brooke during every art class after that, but they hardly ever spoke except to exchange colored pencils or rulers. After a few weeks, she began hanging out with Emma Duvall and the other pigtailed Honors students. She faded off of everyone’s radar, though Nina never failed to point out when her fashion choices were particularly heinous.

One day, a few weeks before summer break, Ms. Grant breezed into the room a few minutes early, hands clasped around a set of worn library art books.

“Alright, class, today we’re actually going to follow a  _ theme _ ,” she announced as the room settled down, setting her pile of books on the table. “We’re going to do something I like to call ‘painting your pain.’ You’re going to get whatever materials you want from the supply closet, and you’re going to make something that really channels whatever turmoil you’re feeling. It can be messy, or brutal, or whatever you need it to be. Afterward, we’ll discuss some of these books on van Gogh I found at the library.” She released them to their art-making with a flourish of her hand.

Brooke glanced up at Audrey as their classmates stood to gather supplies.

“What do you need? I’ll grab it.”

Audrey was silent for a moment, but when she spoke, her voice was low and urgent. 

“I need to get out of here.”

She stood up swiftly, the feet of her chair squealing in protest against the tiled floor as it scraped backward. Every head in the room turned toward her as she snatched her bag and half-ran out of the room.

“Brooke, go make sure she’s alright,” Mrs. Grant said after a moment, brow furrowed. 

_ Isn’t that your job?  _ Brooke wanted to retort, but she followed Audrey out of the room anyway. It was all she could do to keep the backs of Audrey’s beat-up Chucks in sight as she disappeared around hallway corners, heading from the bustling main wing toward the quieter, less-used corridors that ran behind the auditorium and band room. Brooke had to jog to catch up as she darted down the back staircase and out the rusty double doors that led to the ramp where the band geeks loaded and unloaded their heavy equipment. In the middle of the day, Brooke knew, it would be deserted. It’s where Nina often snuck off to smoke with some of the older kids.

Audrey slid her legs under the railing of the ramp and sat, feet dangling over the dusty pavement. She dropped her backpack in a heap beside her and crossed her arms on top of the railing, staring intensely out at the deserted back parking lot and across the overgrown tennis court. She glanced over when Brooke sat beside her, but said nothing. 

“That was  _ such _ a stupid assignment,” Brooke said after regarding Audrey for a moment. She leaned back and fanned herself ineffectively; the heavy air of early summer would definitely frizz her meticulously flat-ironed hair. 

“My mom’s getting worse,” Audrey said quietly.  “My dad’s in Boston. I’ve been staying with my grandparents.”

“Why aren’t you there with him?” Brooke asked.

Audrey was quiet for a moment. “He said Boston’s not a good place for me. Too urban. Too many ‘influences.’” She did air quotes around the last word.

“So you can’t go see your mom in the hospital? Isn’t that illegal or something?”

“Guess not. But he wouldn’t care if it was. Better that then his kid ending up a heathen.”

“What does that even mean?” Brooke asked incredulously. Audrey said nothing, so Brooke continued. “Boy, no wonder you didn’t want to ‘paint your pain.’”

Audrey smirked. “I don’t know, I think it would have come out great. It could have been the inspiration for a really sick horror movie.”

Just then, Nina rounded the corner with a couple of eighth grade boys, a cigarette already lit between her fingers. She was laughing at something one of the boys had said, and she she smacked him lightly on the arm as she giggled. Audrey and Brooke both scrambled to their feet, which caught Nina’s attention.

“Brooke! What are you doing out here?” Nina asked, stopping short of the ramp, flirtatious smile turning sharp and cruel when she spotted Audrey beside her.

“Oh, hey, New Girl,” she said too-brightly, despite the fact that Audrey had been at their school for months now. “Nice jeans. Sears for Kids, right?” The boys, loitering a few feet behind her, snickered. Nina’s mouth twitched in triumph as the hit landed, but Audrey just rolled her eyes. 

“Nice one, genius,” she responded, shouldering her backpack. “Where’s your outfit from? Bitches ‘R’ Us?” Brooke snorted at the terrible comeback, but everyone else seemed to be in shock at Audrey’s outburst, even Audrey herself. Nina scoffed, nearly dropping her cigarette in surprise. It was more words than most people at school had ever heard Audrey speak. A beat later, the boys started howling with laughter.

“You’re such a weird little freak,” Nina finally said, half-shouting to be heard over the noise. She rolled her eyes as she said it, but Brooke could tell she was shaken by Audrey’s intensity.

“Tell me something I don’t know,” Audrey muttered, so quietly that Brooke wasn’t sure if anyone else heard. She shoved past Nina and walked swiftly out to the sidewalk before turning toward the road, heading away from school.

Nina followed Audrey with her eyes until she was out of sight, then turned back to Brooke. “What are you doing out here with that loser?”

“She ran out in the middle of art class for no apparent reason,” Brooke said. “Ms. Grant sent me out to babysit her.” She rolled her eyes theatrically. “It sucked.”  _ Don’t lay it on too thick, Brooke _ , she thought to herself.

“Next time, let the little creeper cry alone.” Nina took a final drag of her cigarette before dropping it into the gravel and snuffing it out with the toe of her lace-up boot.

 

* * *

 

After that, Nina took a special interest in Audrey. Her notes, passed in class or shoved through the slats in Audrey’s locker during the last few weeks of school were particularly cruel and exacting. Prank calls to Audrey’s house were a regular occurrence once the school year ended. As the haze of summer rolled steadily into a swampy autumn, Nina’s network of empty-headed jocks began their own campaign, sticking their feet out in the aisles of the cafeteria and sending Audrey and her newest ally, film geek Noah Foster, flying across the linoleum. Nina was always across the room when it happened, but Brooke could tell from Audrey and Noah’s accusing looks that they were aware of who, exactly, sent down the orders. When Nina’s new boyfriend, a 12th grader from a few towns away, got a car, he and his friends regularly TP-ed Audrey’s dad’s house, their work visible to every person walking or driving up the main road to school the next morning. It got so bad that Mr. Jensen added motion-sensitive lights to every tree in his yard. 

After a few months, Audrey stopped coming to lunch in the cafeteria, and Brooke rarely spotted her in the halls. She was like a ghost who haunted the computer lab and photography classrooms. Even her clothes, which had always been nondescript shades of tan and blue, were now almost entirely black and grey. She blended like a shadow into the fabric of Lakewood Middle. 

On the last day of eighth grade, as her dad’s secretary drove her to school, Brooke saw that someone had thrown at least two dozen eggs at Audrey’s front door. The runny mess had dried in the night, and streaks of yolk stained the eggshell blue paint a nasty yellow-green. When she arrived at school, she saw Audrey shoving books into her locker so forcefully that they banged loudly against the metal. 

Brooke scanned the hallways for Nina before approaching. She leaned against the locker next to Audrey’s and scooted in close, bending her head so that she was shielded from view by Audrey’s locker door. Audrey barely glanced up at her, but she started stacking her books more quietly.

“It blows my mind that those Neanderthals are spending their entire allowance at Costco buying eggs and toilet paper,” Brooke said, her voice as low as possible. Audrey’s mouth turned up slightly at the corner. “I mean, I know your dad had to buy lights and all, but those assholes have to be dropping thirty, probably forty bucks at a time. So who are the real losers here, you know?”

Audrey was fighting a full smile now, but before she could respond, Brooke saw Nina coming down the hall. Their eyes locked a fraction of a second before Brooke could step safely away from Audrey’s locker. That day at lunch, Brooke braced for a tirade, Nina didn’t mention it at all. As if Brooke had flipped a switch, Nina seemed to lose interest in Audrey altogether. That summer, she focused entirely on trying to get with guys who were home from college, and Brooke was happy to follow her to parties and bonfires and pretend that finally, after everything, their life was back to normal.  

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


On the first day of ninth grade, Nina held court at one of the picnic tables before the first bell. Brooke stood off to the side, waiting for Riley to arrive. Even though it was barely seven in the morning, the sun beat down on the front lawn and Brooke could feel the heat threatening to melt the makeup off of her face.

As she took the final lukewarm sip of her iced coffee, Brooke caught sight of Audrey crossing the street in front of the school. Her hair, which had been way past her shoulders by the end of eighth grade, was now cropped short, curling slightly over her ears and at the back of her neck. She wore a loose heather grey shirt weighed down against her chest by several looping silver necklaces, the hem tucked haphazardly into the waistband of her tight black jeans. 

Brooke didn’t realize she was staring until Audrey squinted at her and gave a confused half-wave as she walked past.

“Brooke!” Nina called from her perch. “Why did that little emo boy just wave at you?”

Brooke turned to correct her, but stopped when she saw the cruel half-smile on Nina’s face. She glanced back at Audrey, but she was already halfway across the lawn, arm outstretched in greeting toward a cluster of techie nerds sitting in the grass by the doors of the school.

“I’m going to need you to get out of Lesbo-Land over there and help me plan my back-to-school party,” Nina said sternly, eliciting snickers and “ooooh’s” from the boys surrounding them. Brooke felt a stab of annoyance, but she rolled her eyes and smiled, brushing off the comment. She flounced over to the table and sat down, white eyelet skirt fanning out over her knees. Nina squeezed her hand.

 

* * *

 

Two years later, Brooke was sitting alone in her dark bedroom, preparing to go to sleep when her phone started buzzing incessantly. Her text group with Emma, Will, Jake, Riley, Nina, and Tyler, ever-so-subtly named “BAD BITCHEZZZ $QUADDD,” was blowing up more than usual. Brooke scrolled back to catch up, finally reaching the first message of the night. It was a video from Nina. Brooke tapped the thumbnail, which opened in full screen and began to play. The footage was grainy and washed out thanks to the low-quality cell phone camera, but the subject was clear: Audrey, in the front seat of her maroon station wagon, full-on making out with some blonde girl. Brooke’s heart began to pound. It was obvious that this wasn’t some silly party kiss, or some ploy to get a boy’s attention. They were both fully focused on one another, hands rubbing across each other’s shoulders and tangling in each other’s hair. The clip ended and Brooke automatically tapped the play button again. She watched as the blonde girl caressed Audrey, her hand pushing the soft brown fabric of Audrey’s oversized sweater off of her shoulder and running gently over the skin of her back. Brooke restarted the clip again and again, always catching that gentle motion, that moment of total vulnerability.

After several repetitions, she clicked back to the text group to see everyone’s reactions.

Jake:  _ Nina ur sick and i love it. Who knew jensen had it in her? _

Will:  _ this is fucked.  _

Jake again:  _ U know u love it _

Riley:  _ Omg!!! What were you even doing out there? _

Emma:  _ Nina. Delete it. _

Brooke hesitated before slowly tapping out a response.

_ #oldnews much? Audrey’s like a walking poster for girl/girl tendencies. _

As if beckoned, Nina’s name popped up on Brooke’s caller ID. Brooke sank into her comforter, arms defensively crossed over her chest.

“Brooke!” Nina huffed, her voice theatrically pouty. Brooke could tell she was drunk. “What the fuck is your  _ problem?”  _

“Why don’t you ask Emma? She’s saying the same thing I am.”

“Fuck Emma. Emma’s always been the boring good girl, no matter what Will gets her to do in bed.” She paused, and Brooke heard the smooth  _ shck  _ of her Zippo lighter. Nina exhaled heavily, and Brooke pictured her leaning against the brick wall outside her house, sighing plumes of cigarette smoke into the air. “You, dear Brooke, always go along with my schemes.” 

“Yeah, well, I just don’t think this particular scheme is especially heard-hitting,” Brooke replied.  _ The sweater, Audrey’s shoulder.  _ Brooke couldn’t get the sweater out of her mind. What would possess Audrey to wear that frumpy monstrosity, now caught on film forever? Was she so comfortable with this girl that she would show up to their date in pajamas?

Nina was quiet for a moment, and Brooke thought maybe she was giving in.

How stupid.

“You know I did this for you, don’t you, bitch?” Nina’s tone was venomous when she finally spoke, and despite her intoxication she spit every word with precision. “Ever since middle school, she’s been trying to get with you. No one sees it but me. Not even her former BFF, Emma.” She paused, presumably to take another angry drag of her cigarette. “I saw you two out there on the ramp, and at her locker that day. I’ve been trying to figure out a way to show you for real ever since then. She’s been trying to get in your pants since Day One. Don’t you get it? She’s a perv. She’s just a gross little weakling who clearly likes slutty, insecure blondes.”

“Fuck you,” Brooke spat. “You’re a psycho, you know that? Who films someone from the bushes to out them? Is this a Lifetime movie from 2001? Homophobia is so last decade, you know.”

Nina laughed, a sharp and humorless sound. “You’re such a fucking dyke, you know that? I thought I was doing you a favor by showing you who that freak really is, but I guess what I should be saying is that I’m sorry your pathetic little crush is off the market.”

“I don’t care who Audrey Jensen makes out with in the front seat of her disgusting car,” Brooke retorted. She fought to keep her voice calm. It had been a mistake to get heated--it only pushed Nina further.

“You know, I made this little movie for you, but maybe it’s for the best if everyone sees it,” Nina said nonchalantly. “I bet it’ll really boost Jensen’s rep. All the little weirdos will be lining up to get in her pants.”

“Do whatever you want,” Brooke responded coolly, though her face burned.

“You bet your ass I will.” And with that, Nina hung up.

 

* * *

 

The next morning, Brooke awoke to a single text from Nina in their group:  _ Yawn. Deleted. Don’t need lezzes taking up storage on my phone. _

 

It was the last text Brooke would ever get from Nina.

 

* * *

Audrey sat outside of Brooke’s house, her car idling at the foot of her driveway near the spot where, just a few days ago, she’d tried to wish her long-dormant crush away. Her hands were slick with sweat against the steering wheel, and she wiped them on her jeans before turning off her car and standing shakily in the warm night air. She shrugged out of her coat and threw it onto the passenger seat--the jacket really had been overkill; it was way too hot even with the sun behind the trees--before shutting the door and walking slowly up the slight hill to Brooke’s porch.

Before she’d made it far, the door opened and Brooke stepped outside. She’d changed out of her sweater and into a “Miss Lakewood 2014” t-shirt and soft pink pajama pants. Audrey felt warm affection growing in her chest at the sight of her in such uncharacteristically comfortable clothes.

“Damn, now I feel overdressed,” Audrey laughed as she approached.

“Shut up,” Brooke rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. “Just get in the house.”

Audrey saluted mockingly before following Brooke. She felt, for the first time in forever, like she was ready for any surprises that might await her inside.


End file.
